


Shakes

by HYPERFocused



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Babies, Carnival, Child Death, Dark, Disturbing Themes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Original Character Death(s), Wakes & Funerals, Wraith Feeding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-21 15:10:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1554779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HYPERFocused/pseuds/HYPERFocused
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pre-recorded music, and the crackle of fire and wind are the prevalent sounds. The rides are still spinning, though it looks like no one is alive to enjoy them. There’s a carousel, but no Ferris Wheel, and John is ridiculously relieved.</p><p>They don’t hear the child at first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shakes

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is what comes out when one is depressed on Mardi Gras. Written 3/01/2006 for [](http://slodwick.livejournal.com/profile)[**slodwick**](http://slodwick.livejournal.com/) ’s A Picture is Worth 1000 Words, Part 4 ([](http://picfor1000.livejournal.com/profile)[ **picfor1000**](http://picfor1000.livejournal.com/)). [My picture is here](http://pics.livejournal.com/hyperfocused/pic/00007tre/)

The mission is supposed to be a cakewalk, almost a vacation after months of hell. A peaceful planet, so far falling under the Wraith‘s radar. A carnival world, with delicious new foods and goods to trade, and perhaps a place the new inhabitants of Atlantis might visit for rest and relaxation. Teyla even says she’s heard they have what sounds to John like the equivalent of fair rides, if not a full fledged theme park. Maybe even a Ferris Wheel. John doesn’t dare hope. Rodney’s never managed to build him one, despite John’s cajoling. He probably thinks John is kidding. He doesn’t know how much John wants to kiss him at the top of the wheel, in that one spot where they can see everything, but no one can see them. It’s a moment of freedom he’s longed for since he first wanted Rodney, the exact opposite of the inside closed doors relationship they have now.

The planet’s designation is HJ5396. The natives call it something John can’t pronounce without spitting, so he thinks of it as Rigel 6 instead. He doesn’t tell Rodney that, though. He needs to keep his non Geek credential.

When they step through the gate, it’s clear this mission will be anything but fun. The area immediately surrounding the gate is clear, which must be why the MALP reported nothing wrong.

But farther out things are different. Fires burning trails along the ground, an eerie quiet instead of the expected sounds of people enjoying their holiday. There’s no one left to welcome them, just shriveled husks barely recognizable as human.

The pre-recorded music, and the crackle of fire and wind are the prevalent sounds. The rides are still spinning, though it looks like no one is alive to enjoy them, There’s a carousel, but no Ferris Wheel, and John is ridiculously relieved.

They don’t hear the child at first. Ronon, hearing attuned from his years as a Runner shushes them. Then the baby’s faint cry overtakes the wind for a moment and they all rush towards the source of the sound.

John gets there first, and almost wishes he hadn’t. The -- thing. John could hardly call it a woman -- they find sounds like an infant, except for the way its cry cracks like it hadn’t been heard in decades. Tear streaked and red-faced, she wears remnants of a pastel onesie patterned with baby birds, and what must once have been a diaper in tatters around her waist. Despite her childish gear, she looks like she could be John’s great grandmother. Grown old, but not grown up. It was only through great self control that John manages not to retch.

Rodney is not so lucky; he vomits into a nearby bush, and wipes off his face with shaking hands. His color turns to a pale green John never wants to see on a human being again. He never wants to see any of this again.

There are no other signs of life to be found, so they contact Dr Beckett, who directs them to bring her back to Atlantis. Perhaps some Ancient technology will do some good for the ancient infant. Nobody thinks this is likely, but John can’t bring himself to shoot an innocent child, no matter how it looks.

It’s worse than the not-Elizabeth from that alternate reality. At least she could communicate. The medical team can do nothing but try to make her comfortable. They settle her into an infirmary cot with makeshift bars from Atlantean fencing to keep her from falling out. She raises wrinkled bony arms so someone will cuddle her, and drinks powdered milk from a bottle jerry-rigged from a latex glove and a water bottle. They all know it’s a matter of time, but Dr Heightmeyer rises to the occasion and holds her, while Dr Beckett sings lullabies to her, softly, in his Scottish brogue. It’s soothing and horrifying at once.

It takes her eight hours to die, but at least she slips away peacefully. After the debriefing, and a short memorial put together by Halling and Teyla, but attended by all, he takes Rodney for a quick trip to the mainland. He needs to see life, to see children playing despite the odds. He needs to be with Rodney, to feel the distraction of Rodney’s hands and lips and cock in whatever stolen comfort they can find.

Later, they take her back to her world to bury her in the traditions of her kind. They don’t know her name, so they mark her grave with the Ancient word for ‘Innocent’. John is sure they’d like to do similarly for all the other dead, but that isn’t feasible. A mass grave will have to do, with that one stone to represent the others as well. Grave markers are there for the deceased’s loved ones and descendants. There will be none.

There is no fear of a Wraith return. They have no one to come back to cull. Practicality says the team should partake of the resources they‘d originally gone there to find, but they aren‘t quite needy enough to steal from the dead. There wasn‘t a ZPM involved, or it might be a different story.

If he listens very closely, John imagines he can still hear the laughter. Children’s voices gone cold, turned old in the space of a moment as the scary clowns of the Pegasus galaxy fly in for a culling like the circus in a Stephen King/Ray Bradbury co-production.

Clowns are always frightening to children who have any sense. God only knows what might be hiding behind that caked on make-up. John’s never liked clowns, and it’s even worse when the coloring is part of their genetic make-up. Call the Wraith soul sucking space vampires, or compare them to evil clowns, John knows he’ll have this nightmare for the rest of his life.

If he’s very lucky, he’ll also have Rodney to wake him from it. That beats a Ferris Wheel any damn day.  


**Author's Note:**

> Yes, like the Clown.


End file.
